for show and tell
Jesus Christ is a used car salesman
I feel shitty, yay! But
doesn't everyone? Yes. And I don't know why. My bowels,
exploding, my head, exploding, my eyes, exploding. People I
don't want to name for sake of my own status, oh the self-
interest of me, make me angry. Some for apathy, and those
who lack thereof. I'm sick of being sorry, I'm sick of
being unnoticed. Watch, you see, when I suddenly disappear
and perhaps maybe then they'll wonder. And if not, they're
not worth me, as I believe I'm something okay. I'm
something worth talking with. I want to commit sleep
deprivation again. I must. I want. Whatever.
Fuck me in my sleep, and give me rotting dreams, for those who
cannot wake, are breaking at the seams.